The Final Problem
by Brooke Richards
Summary: It's been two years since the fall and Sherlock has come back. Sherlock can't wait to see John but something's wrong. Hurt/Comfort possible Johnlock
1. The Final Fall

Sherlock glares out the window of Mycroft's private jet while Mycroft gives him crap for cutting ties with him while he was away. "And Sherlock-"

"Alright! Fine! Geez." Sherlock gets up and goes to walk to the washroom, leaving Mycroft glaring at him as he goes.

"You've changed a great deal Sherlock. Remember that emotions just get in the way. Ever since I found you after your going AWOL, you've been nothing but be emotional."

"probably has something to do with the fact that I was tortured don't you think?! Now drop the subject." Sherlock closes the restroom door behind him. Mycroft releases a sigh of irritation and pours himself a cup of tea and sits down again

"The plane will be landing soon so hurry up and sit down"

Sherlock grumbles as he leaves the rest room and sits back down in his chair, taking the tea that sat in the holder.

Sherlock and Mycroft continue discussing Sherlock's adventure while he is getting his haircut and beard shaved, which had become rather shaggy and unappealing; not to mention poor hygiene.

Sherlock interrupts Mycroft "Yes, yes. Fine, when do I get to see John?"

Mycroft goes silent and looks at the desk "what? What is it?" Sherlock brushes the barber away and sits up, wincing.

"Sherlock… after the fall, John was more than overtaken by grief. He started out just drinking lots and not showing up for work but ..." he sighs sadly. "You should've kept in contact with me, Sherlock. We would have been able to bring you back sooner"

"I don't understand. What has happened to John?! I want to see him!" Sherlock stands up and grabs his coat from Anthea, hurriedly putting it on

"Sherlock, the last thing John said was that he had found you and that he was going to meet you where he knew you would be"

Sherlock goes still, his coat mostly on. He glares at Mycroft slightly. "Stop talking in riddles and tell me where he is!"

Mycroft walks over to Sherlock, looking at his brother with sadness in his eyes despite his lack of emotions.

"Heaven, Sherlock. He jumped off of St. Bart's roof. He-"

"Shut up, Mycroft! Shut up!" Sherlock turns around and pushes past Anthea. He only makes it a few steps before collapsing to the floor, shaking and releasing small quiet sobs. Mycroft walks over to Sherlock and rest his hand on his brother's shoulder awkwardly.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock. I'm so sorry." He gestures for Mrs. Hudson to come over. He had called her once they had landed knowing that Sherlock would be upset about John's passing. She walks in quickly and cradles Sherlock in her arms, rocking him slowly. Sherlock continues crying softly, resting his head on her shoulder, comforted by her presence.

"I'll have a car pull 'round for you Mrs. Hudson. Please take him home and take care of him"

Mrs. Hudson nods and helps Sherlock up, following Anthea to the cab that had arrived shortly after Mycroft had called. Once they leave the house, Mycroft goes back to his office and closes the door. He watches Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock leave, a tear rolling down his cheek.


	2. One More Miracle

A few days past and Sherlock didn't speak a word, he only played the violin. Sometimes he would play John's favorites and sometimes he would play his own, sad tune. But he only ever stopped for a few hours, passed out in John's chair. Once he awoke again he would play, never uttering a sound except for the occasional quiet sob that would escape his chapped lips.

Finally Mrs. Hudson couldn't take it anymore, she made him his favorite foods and walked upstairs, listening to every pained note that trailed down the stairs of 221B. When she entered, she found him sitting in John's chair, his eyes closed and tears running down his cheeks. she placed the tray of food on the table in the living room and knelt down beside him, resting her hand on his knee.

"Sherlock?" She whispers, brushing the tears from his cheeks, "Sherlock, Honey, you need to eat."

He stops playing and looks at her, his eyes red and glossy from crying. He parts his chapped lips and replies, "I want to go see John." After so many days of not using his mouth or uttering a sound, his voice was rather raspy and broke as he spoke those words. Each world falling from his lips with ease, except for "John" which caught in his throat but managed to force it out.

She nods, "Alright, but first you have to eat something. I've made your favorites." She pats his knee and slowly gets up with a slight grunt. "Come now dear. The sooner you finish the sooner we can go, ok?" She gently pulls the violin and bow from his fingers and puts it away.

"Ok," he whispers before getting up stiffly. Mrs. Hudson walks over to him and smiles softly, rubbing his back gently. Sherlock sat and looked at the food before slowly eating.

"Would you like some tea, Dear?" She asks as she heads into the kitchen. He nods slightly, "yes" "Alright, Dear."

Once the tea is made, she comes over with two cups and sits down beside him. "Here you go, Sherlock," She hands him his cup and looks out the window, sipping hers quietly. Sherlock continues to eat slowly, finishing a portion after a few minutes. He sits back and pushes it away. Mrs. Hudson looks at him and the plate of food that had a slight dent in it, "All done for now, Dear?" He nods slightly and sips his tea. "Alright, well you can finish the rest later. Once you're done your tea you can get ready and we'll go. I'll get us a cab and get ready as well," She gets up and takes the plate and her cup to the kitchen before heading downstairs to get ready and call a cab. Once she's left, Sherlock gets up and slowly walks to his room, getting ready.

"Sherlock, Dear, the cabs here for us. Are you ready?" Mrs. Hudson calls from the bottom of the stairs. Sherlock pulls on his coat and heads downstairs, wrapping up his scarf and pulling on his gloves. "Ready?" "Yes," he nods and opens the door for her before exiting the flat.


	3. The Truth and Nothing But The Truth

Letter From The Writer:

Sorry loves! I've been so terribly busy but I will have new chapters up hopefully soon! You are more than welcome to send in suggestions to my twitter LondonsKitty. Questions are also welcome and I will try my best to answer them ASAP!

Keep deducing,

Brooke Richards

* * *

They arrive at the cemetery, the noon sun shining down with a pleasant glow. Sherlock steps out of the cab before turning around to look at Mrs. Hudson. "I would like to go alone please," he says quietly. She nods, "I'll be right here." He closes the door and slowly makes his way up the hill to where John's grave was said to be. Mrs. Hudson had called Mycroft while Sherlock had gone to his room to get ready, explaining to him that Sherlock had wished to visit John's grave. Mycroft told her to go along with it and to take Sherlock to the cemetery. As Sherlock reached the tree that John's tombstone was said to be, he looked up and upon seeing his brother he scowled."What are you doing here Mycroft?"

Mycroft stepped aside so that Sherlock could see that the tombstone that sat there did not have John's name on it. "Hello, Sherlock. Lovely day isn't it?"

"As I said, what are you doing here? And where is John's grave? Mrs. Hudson said it was here."

Mycroft stepped back a bit for his brother had come quite close to him. "John doesn't have a grave. Before when I said that John had in fact died, I lied. He -" Mycroft was interrupted by Sherlock who had grabbed him by the collar and had his face rather close to his. "Now listen here, brother mine. Where. Is. John?" He snarled, before pushing Mycroft away.

Mycroft straightened his suit before answering, "he's in St. Bart's. He's in a coma... has been for over a year and a half."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?!" Sherlock growled. "Why would you tell me he's dead when he isn't?! And don't try to say anything about what I did. I had no choice!"

Calmly Mycroft replied, "because the chances of John ever waking up, or at least waking up and remembering you, are slim to none"

"What do you mean 'slim to none'? Why wouldn't he remember me?" Sherlock ran his shaking fingers through his hair, trying to calm himself.

"Because, remember how I told you that he jumped off the hospital? Well he did but he survived the fall, however the damage to his brain put him in a coma and the doctors say it's unlikely he'll wake and that if he does, he won't remember the last few years. Meaning -"

"I know what it means!" Sherlock stormed off back to the cab, fighting the urge to cry. This was all his fault. Had he told John, no... if he made himself known to John, John could have been in danger. But this, this was far worse. If Mycroft was right, then when or if John woke, his John would be dead and a new John would be in his place.

Sherlock stands before the cab that waited for him with Mrs. Hudson in it. He takes a shaking breath before opening the door and gets in, slamming it, earning him a glare from the cabbie and a gasp from a startled Mrs. Hudson who moved closer to her door. The cab pulls away and heads back to 221B. After a while Mrs. Hudson turns to Sherlock and asks, "Is everything alright, dear?" Sherlock turns to her, growling softly but tries his best to remain calm. "No, everything's not alright. Why did you tell me he was dead when he's not," he glares at her slightly before looking out the window again, not overly interested in her reply. She stays quiet, not quite sure how to reply before saying quietly, "Mycroft asked me…" Sherlock turns to her, looking at her gently, "I know, Mrs. Hudson." He smiles slightly. "You're surprisingly good at hiding things from me..."


	4. A Visit From An Old Friend

A few days pass and Sherlock becomes a little less detached from life and reality. It's noon and Mrs. Hudson had successfully gotten Sherlock to eat a normal amount of food. "I think I'll see him today," he says, as he wipes a few crumbs from his lips. Mrs. Hudson looks up from her tea, "John?" "Yes, visiting hours are from one to four today." Sherlock stands and takes his and Mrs. Hudson's plates before walking to the kitchen to set them in the sink. Mrs. Hudson turns to look at him "you should let me give you a haircut before you go, dear. Your curls completely cover your ears now." He smiles slightly as he walks back to her, "only if you're quick about it, I want to arrive at one o'clock sharp."

Sherlock ruffles his hair after its been cut and thanks Mrs. Hudson before heading back upstairs to his and John's flat. Checking his watch, he grabs his coat and scarf before putting them on as he makes it down the stairs. "Going now, dear?" Mrs. Hudson asks as she folds up an apron. "Yes, I'll be back later," he replies and heads out the door before catching a cab.

Sherlock makes his way up to John's room after having to listen to a nurse go on about how she was sorry for his loss. "He's not /dead/," the detective thinks as he heads up the stairs. "He'll be awake soon."

Taking a deep breath, Sherlock steps into John's room. The slight smirk on his face quickly disappears when he sees the doctor laying there with cords and machines all around him. A nurse was by his bed, working with one of the machines when Sherlock came. "Hello," she says, turning to him, "I'll be gone in just a minute." Sherlock nods and sits down beside his friend, cautiously taking his hand. The nurse goes to the foot of the bed and picks up his file. "Are you a friend of John Watson's?" She asks. "Yes," he says softly. "Alright well I'll let you two be now. I'm the nurse who will be taking care of him so if you need anything, just ask for Mary Morstan at the nurses desk." Sherlock nods and the nurse leaves, quietly closing the door behind her.

After a few minutes, Sherlock looks over at John's peaceful face. "I'm so sorry, John," he says softly. "I tried so desperately to come back... I told you it was a magic trick, John. It was just a magic trick." Sherlock carries his face into John's hand, fighting down his emotions; trying to pretend that he wasn't hurting.

It wasn't until an hour or so later that Sherlock lifted his head after dozing off. Clearing his throat, he stands and goes to leave. "Goodbye John," he says and exits the room before heading home. He quietly makes his way out of the hospital and hails a cab, heading home.

Sherlock makes his way up the stairs to the flat, too deep in thought to notice that the door was already open. He enters and sitting in his chair is Detective Inspector Lestrade. "Hello Sherlock," he says, snapping the detective back to reality. "Lestrade," he replies flatly as usual, "why are you here?"

"I'm checking in on you."

"Mycroft put you up to it?" Sherlock hangs up his coat before turning back to the Inspector.

Lestrade makes a face and stands, fixing his jacket, "No he didn't, Sherlock. I know you like to think that he constantly has me doing things for him but that is not the case. I /am/ here because I wanted to check in and see if you were ok."

"Right… Well I'm fine," Sherlock plops into John's chair staring blankly up at him.

He looks down at the detective carefully, "Right… Well I guess I'll be off then."

Sherlock nods and Lestrade leaves him to his thoughts. After a time, Sherlock goes and picks up his violin and begins to play a soft melody that last till late into the night


End file.
